


Snail Trail

by ChingKittyCat



Series: Dream Defending Demon [2]
Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: 4Kids Dub, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Conversations, Evil, Evil Plans, Gen, Not Beta Read, POV Antagonist, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChingKittyCat/pseuds/ChingKittyCat
Summary: After he fled the GSA's protection decades ago, Escargoon hadn't been seen since. Tiff always thought that was for the better, but she couldn't help but worry about where in the cosmos he could've possibly gone... and if he was safe or not.
Series: Dream Defending Demon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851175
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Snail Trail

Escargoon left all the gory details to the people who cared about them in the first place. He wasn’t here to question any war, or any battles, or any sort of violence. He was satisfied enough to be perched far away from it, in some place that actually halfway represented a real society. 

War constantly conflicted with his job, though, which more than often saw Escargoon repairing the same things over and over again, then re-fortifying their defenses with better materials, then repairing and upgrading them all over again. So as much as he didn’t want to care, he had to— at least to some extent.

As CTO, he wasn’t  _ meant  _ to do as much as the average mechanic, but in the startup phase of the company and the war, it was all hands on deck. All eyes on all screens, and all ears perked for even the slightest whisper of whatever the GSA was planning.

Any slight edge that he could give the robots that were being manufactured, any tiny thing that could be adjusted in their AI’s could mean life or death. Was he running on the smoke of his fourth coffee within the past two hours? Maybe. Was he going to sleep? No. All the time proofing and checking his subordinate’s work left him little time to work on his own projects, and sometimes he was convinced that the buffoons working for him had Waddle Dee sized brains. That is to say none at all.

He needed to make sure he kept his new life. If he was caught again, Stars only knows what the GSA would do to him. Yes, he worked, yes, he needed to keep working, and he needed to get the Power Stars out of the grasp of the good guys.

“Would you quit that!? What do you want!?” He barked at the robot who’d escalated to slapping him on the back to get his attention. He almost melted their face off with his blowtorch. 

The small snail-esque robot— a rather cute mockery of himself that he’d made for simple tasks— beeped and booped in a language he’d designed for it. Once he turned off his blowtorch and removed his protective mask, it hurriedly extended out one of its arms to push a tablet into his hands. Escargoon grumbled and snapped his mitt-like hand. A pair of hands extended from the ceiling, placing his reading glasses onto the bridge of his eye stalk.

A surveillance mosquito around King Arthur’s castle… Showing Nova floating right around the back of it. Escargoon squinted at the bright pixels on the screen.

He brought up the controls of the mosquito on the tablet, piloting it closer to the cat clock so he could get a better look. It was abundantly clear those rainbow ‘pixels’ were power stars, flooding into Nova by the hundreds. 

However, as a reward for Escargoon’s need to know, the forcefield around Arthur’s castle had apparently detected his meddling and zapped the mosquito drone out of existence, because the feed abruptly shut off.

Escargoon grumbled sourly. 

“Is there any other information that we know of on  _ what  _ they wished for?”

The little snail assistant told him ‘no’. He handed the tablet back to them with a grimace. He needed to make sure everyone onboard was still fine. If any high ranking officers suddenly vanished, he at least could count on knowing the reason why. Shame, he was starting to like the new CFO.

Escargoon took off his gloves to wipe the sweat off of his face, pinching his eyebrows with his thumb and conjoined digit. “I can deal with him..  _ You _ , tell every other Escardrone in the network to spread the new information to any employee who it’s prevalent to.”

The snail drone affirmed his command with a singular beep. Escargoon grabbed his clean gloves and made for the door to go track down his esteemed ‘employer’. It was no wild goose chase around the company, thank goodness, as he was busy in the fortress’s control center overseeing the activities of the poor sod in charge of things there.

Escargoon interrupted their positively scintillating conversation with an abrupt clear of his throat. 

“What.” Nightmare hissed at him, hardly entertained by the rudeness of it. One flash of those teeth reminded Escargoon that regardless of how many hours of sleep he didn’t get last night, he needed to act like he  _ wasn’t  _ irritated.

“I’ve got some news from one of the drones.” Escargoon tried to level his voice to be at least halfway polite, but he couldn’t manage it.

“Oh good, you’re not wearing the dirty gloves.” Nightmare commented idly, straightening his posture and attitude. You know how I feel about those. But, ugh- you should be wearing your yellow contacts at all times.”

“Yeah, yeah, lets get to the news.” Escargoon sighed. “The GSA summoned NOVA and made a wish on it. Still no news on what they wished for, that forcefield they’ve got is too good at detecting the drones.”

Nightmare growled, wrinkling his face like he’d smelled something rotten. Escargoon heard the crackles of electricity behind his stately, wrapped cape. 

“I already sent out a mass-message to your war strategists.” Escargoon shrugged. “I don’t know what else you want from me, your imperial majesty.”

“What are you working on right now.” Nightmare snapped.

“Another Masher prototype.”

“Stop working on it. I want you to give it to someone else. I want you working full time on the mass-development of new fortress artillery.”

Escargoon could feel his soul escape his body. Thankfully he had the practiced ability to drag it back into himself, and only with a  _ slight  _ frown on his face! 

“With all the respect you deserve, I think I should keep working on the  **only** good robot that’s been keeping the GSA at bay. I’m the best you have in the tech department, it only makes sense.” 

“Fine.” Nightmare submitted easily enough, thank goodness. He was readying for a shouting match that never came, as per usual. “Just get more people working on our defenses.”

Escargoon was going to say ‘no’ again, but he held his tongue. Instead, he thought of a better question after a soft second of thought.

“Why do we need our defenses improved when all we’ve done is  _ run  _ when the GSA have found the fortress? If I move my engineers away from upgrading the engine for our light-speed drive, it could compromise  _ everyone’s  _ safety. Especially yours.”

“I’m immortal and invulnerable.” Nightmare reassured.

Escargoon raised a brow at him, flat-faced. Nightmare must’ve remembered exactly what Escargoon was thinking of just from the look alone. He huffed.

“Do you feel immortal and invulnerable?” Escargoon asked.

“What?” Nightmare sounded offended.

“I need to know, it’s important. Maybe the GSA wished your immortality or invulnerability away.”

“No, I feel the same.” Nightmare scoffed.

Escargoon clicked his tongue. He wasn’t going to get Nightmare to experiment any theories— as evidenced by all the other failed experiments the demon was just simply too hesitant to take part in because they were ‘demeaning’.

“You have something to get back to.” Nightmare said, flatly.

“Of course I do.”

“Listen, snail,” Nightmare punctuated, “I’m going to be busy today.”

“Is that true?” Escargoon shot a look to his little assistant, who’d dutifully kept their yapper shut.

“Yes, Lord eNeMeE’s schedule is very busy.” The CFO responded. 

Not that it was their job in the first place to know such a thing, but apparently Nightmare made a habit of turning all the CFO’s into his personal secretary. He almost felt bad for them, but knowing it’s them or him made Escargoon a bit more numb to their conundrum.

“If there is going to be any rest for you, it’ll be now.” Nightmare said it like it was a warning, but Escargoon yawned and stretched as though it were just a gentle reminder.

“I need more vacation days.” Escargoon said wearily, his eyelids already trying to preemptively take the opportunity offered.

“Once Hawahoo is back in my posession, then there will be a chance for some.” Nightmare got himself to muse. “Or perhaps that spa planet I always liked.. Never could remember the name of it.”

“Yeah, yeah. The sooner the better on Hawahoo, your imperial majesty. Goodnight.” 

Escargoon turned tail. Having some well-deserved rest in this corporate climate was like taking sips of water from a desert oasis. No matter the quality of it, you’re thankful to not die without it.

“ _ Evil _ night.” Nightmare corrected, absolutely serious. 

“Yeah. Evil night.” Escargoon scoffed.


End file.
